From [email protected] Thu Jul 6 08:15:53 EDT 1995
Article: 66160 of alt.sex.movies
Message-ID: <[email protected]>
Path: roch3.eznet.net!news.sprintlink.net!gatech!EU.net!news.eunet.fi!anon.penet.fi
Newsgroups: alt.sex.movies
From: [email protected] (Jamal Dunbar)
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Organization: Anonymous forwarding service
Reply-To: [email protected]
Date: Thu, 6 Jul 1995 10:01:16 UTC
Subject: Dunbar Review: Michael Ninn's Sex, part 2: Fate
Lines: 39
Status: RO
# Michael Ninn's Sex 2: Fate
c 5.4 1995 VCA, Michael Ninn
. Sunset Thomas, Gerry Pike
. Shayla, Gerry Pike {pc.Rc}
. Sunset Thomas, Debi Diamond
. Sunset Thomas, Steve Drake
. Tiffany Million, John Dough
. Sunset Thomas, Tiffany Million
. Sunset Thomas, male
Plot: Some pretentious narrative revolving around Gerry Pike as a famous
advertising model, and the soul-corrupting nature of power and fame,
or some other crap which I mostly fast-forwarded through.
I should've known better than to rent this tape, but they had a special
rent four, get one free. (I ended up keeping the tapes an extra day, so
instead of saving $2.50, it cost me $10.00).
Sex 2 is just like the first video, only worse. In fact, it recycles much
footage from the first (which is typical of two parters).
The image quality is nice, but the sex scenes suffer from same terrible
editting techniques used in the first part. Many scene's consists of
little more than numerous cross fades between a handful of shots, which
typical consists of a single tight crotch shot, a couple medium or long
shots (usually softcore), and some facial closeups. Repeated use of the
same insertion shot (over and over) was especially annoying.
The only positive note, plenty of Sunset Thomas. So unless you must
see everything Sunset Thomas has done, don't let curiousity get the better
of you like it did me, and rent this one.
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169 “I can arrange all that.” Such Apaches as had not gone back on the war-path returned to the States with the troops; but there were five months more of the outrages of Geronimo and his kind. Then in the summer of the year another man, more fortunate and better fitted to deal with it all, perhaps,—with the tangle of lies and deceptions, cross purposes and trickery,—succeeded where Crook had failed and had been relieved of a task that was beyond him. Geronimo was captured, and was hurried off to a Florida prison with his band, as far as they well could be from the reservation they had refused to accept. And with them were sent other Indians, who had been the friends and helpers of the government for years, and who had run great risks to help or to obtain peace. But the memory and gratitude of governments is become a proverb. The southwest settled down to enjoy its safety. The troops rested upon the laurels they had won, the superseded general went on with his work in another field far away to the north. The new general, the saviour of the land, was heaped[Pg 305] with honor and praise, and the path of civilization was laid clear. Parliament met on the 10th of January, 1765. The resentment of the Americans had reached the ears of the Ministry and the king, yet both continued determined to proceed. In the interviews which Franklin and the other agents had with the Ministers, Grenville begged them to point to any other tax that would be more agreeable to the colonists than the stamp-duty; but they without any real legal grounds drew the line between levying custom and imposing an inland tax. Grenville paid no attention to these representations. Fifty-five resolutions, prepared by a committee of ways and means, were laid by him on the table of the House of Commons at an early day of the Session, imposing on America nearly the same stamp-duties as were already in practical operation in England. These resolutions being adopted, were embodied in a bill; and when it was introduced to the House, it was received with an apathy which betrayed on all hands the profoundest ignorance of its importance. Burke, who was a spectator of the debates in both Houses, in a speech some years afterwards, stated that he never heard a more languid debate than that in the Commons. Only two or three persons spoke against the measure and that with great composure. There was but one division in the whole progress of the Bill, and the minority did not reach to more than thirty-nine or forty. In the Lords, he said, there was, to the best of his recollection, neither division nor debate! His cheek paled for an instant as the thought obtruded that the man might resist and he have to really shoot him. "Good, the old man's goin' to take the grub out to 'em himself," thought the Deacon with relief. "He'll be easy to manage. No need o' shootin' him." "Them that we shot?" said Shorty carelessly, feeling around for his tobacco to refill his pipe. "Nothin'. I guess we've done enough for 'em already." John Dodd, twenty-seven years old, master, part of the third generation, arranged his chair carefully so that it faced the door of the Commons Room, letting the light from the great window illumine the back of his head. He clasped his hands in his lap in a single, nervous gesture, never noticing that the light gave him a faint saintlike halo about his feathery hair. His companion took another chair, set it at right angles to Dodd's and gave it long and thoughtful consideration, as if the act of sitting down were something new and untried. "Besides," Norma said desperately, "they're only rumors—" "Oh, I've found a way of gitting shut of them rootses—thought of it while I wur working at the trees. I'm going to blast 'em out." During the next ten years the farm went forward by strides. Reuben bought seven more acres of Boarzell in '59, and fourteen in '60. He also bought a horse-rake, and threshed by machinery. He was now a topic in every public-house from Northiam to Rye. His success and the scant trouble he took to conciliate those about him had made him disliked. Unprosperous farmers[Pg 124] spoke windily of "spoiling his liddle game." Ditch and Ginner even suggested to Vennal that they should club together and buy thirty acres or so of the Moor themselves, just to spite him. However, money was too precious to throw away even on such an object, especially as everyone felt sure that Backfield would sooner or later "bust himself" in his dealings with Boarzell. "Let's go home," she said faintly—"it's getting late."